


Share my life, it's yours to keep

by Hyeyu



Series: My hand in yours [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Clothing Matching, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 13:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12060330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyeyu/pseuds/Hyeyu
Summary: But this particular quirk persists, long enough that Hajime picks up on it. At some point, Oikawa had started deliberately matching his clothing to Hajime’s own outfits whenever they went out. They are never quite the same outright, but once Hajime starts noticing it, it’s hard to not see how Oikawa’s choice of clothing complements his own, enough so that one could safely pronounce them a matching set.Iwaizumi discovers that he and Oikawa appear to be wearing couple-clothing whenever they go out, due to Oikawa's determination to match his own outfits to Iwaizumi's. He decides to test the extent of that determination.





	Share my life, it's yours to keep

**Author's Note:**

> Me: I think I'm in a writing rut; [my other fic] is stuck, and how does one write ughhh dying.  
> Also me: *ACCIDENTALLY PROMPTS SELF, GETS STUCK THINKING ABOUT PROMPT ALL NIGHT, THEN FLASHWRITES IWAOI FLUFF*
> 
> I swear this is the result of fluff-deprivation. Banged this out in two hours or so just so I could post it before bed; my apologies in advance if there are any mistakes in this. 
> 
> Couching this in my domestic!Iwaoi collection; I'll probably set this as the first in the series.
> 
> Title from '2U' by David Guetta ft. Justin Bieber.

To be fair, Hajime’s been too busy juggling his assignments and classes to notice when it first starts. The courses offered in the Physiotherapy degree are interesting, but challenging; even with the advantage of having first-hand experience in athletics and sports via volleyball, Hajime finds himself poring over extra reading material to keep up with the lectures.

Besides, Oikawa has many whims that can strike him at any given moment, some practical, others less so. The first thing Hajime’s learnt when they decided to share an apartment as university students is that it’s best to let his boyfriend indulge in some of the more harmless ones. Most of the time, they are simply ways Oikawa relieves the stress of balancing volleyball practices with his studying; Hajime doesn’t envy the extra pressure placed on Oikawa’s shoulders, especially with word circulating that he was being eyed as a possible candidate for Japan’s National volleyball team.

But this particular quirk persists, long enough that Hajime picks up on it. At some point, Oikawa had started deliberately matching his clothing to Hajime’s own outfits whenever they went out. They are never quite the same outright, but once Hajime starts noticing it, it’s hard to not see how Oikawa’s choice of clothing complements his own, enough so that one could safely pronounce them a matching set.

As it is, Hajime eyes Oikawa’s scarf as they get in line to buy ice cream at Nanaya Suzukien. The clothing item in particular is artfully draped around the brunet’s shoulders, and interwoven with a plaid pattern similar to the shirt Hajime is currently wearing. Two days before, when they had decided to do a quick grocery run together, Oikawa’s hoodie had been an almost exact duplicate of Hajime’s own. The week before that, they had gone to Tokyu Hands in matching jackets through no doing of Hajime’s own.

Arguably, it could be coincidence, maybe even the results of co-existing in the same space for a prolonged period of time. Somehow, Hajime doubts either of these are the cause behind the sudden clothes-matching phenomenon happening in their small household.

“Are you alright, Iwa-chan?”

“Just thinking about what flavor to get,” he lies, shifting his gaze over to the ice cream display. It works; Oikawa grins, wrinkling his nose.

“Iwa-chan’s such an old man; I bet you’re going to end up getting plain matcha.”

“Shut up, Shittykawa.”

He does indeed pick matcha, brushing off Oikawa’s cheerful needling as he thinks. He could be blunt, ask Oikawa straight up what he’s up to. Or, he could test the extent of Oikawa’s commitment to this couple-clothing project.

Despite himself, Hajime finds himself grinning in anticipation as he licks at his matcha cone. This should be interesting.

\---

The next time they head out together to catch a movie, Hajime pulls on his oldest grey hoodie and a pair of black jeans. Then he watches Oikawa discreetly when he comes out of the shower, not allowing himself to be distracted by the freshly scrubbed skin and damp hair.

It’s not much more than a single flick of hazel eyes, Oikawa’s forehead wrinkling slightly before he pads towards where their shared bedroom is. Fifteen minutes later, he emerges, clad in his own pair of black jeans and a soft-looking grey sweater not too many shades off Hajime’s hoodie. The spectacles he rarely uses are perched on his nose - it’s a stylish combination, miles away from Iwaizumi’s more comfortable but worn clothing. But the similarities between the two are undeniably there.

“Ready to go, Iwa-chan?”

Hajime gets to his feet, moving towards the front door. There, even the shoes Oikawa slides his feet into are similar to Hajime’s own Converses; despite himself, a small thrill at Oikawa’s level of planning shivers through Hajime, and he tugs Oikawa close to drop a quick peck on his cheek before they leave the apartment.

The following Saturday, in the interest of furthering his experiment, Hajime agrees to accompany Oikawa to a newly opened bakery in Harajuku that’s been gaining popularity online. The brunet, clearly expecting to have to press his argument, blinks at Hajime’s easy capitulation.

“...Really? You’ll go with me?”

Hajime arches an eyebrow. “I said I would, didn’t I? Want me to take it back?”

“Noooo, Iwa-chan, don’t you dare!”

This time, Hajime pushes it, just a little. It takes a while to unearth the old gag-Godzilla t-shirt Hanamaki had gifted him on his sixteenth birthday from behind his daily attire, with good reason: The t-shirt is bright red, with a neon-green Godzilla roaring in yellow katakana. It’s a little too small, obnoxiously colorful, and utterly perfect for his purposes.

Oikawa actually pauses when Hajime saunters out of the bedroom, eyes round as he processes the full effect of the t-shirt in all its glory. The sleeves emphasize Hajime’s biceps and the cotton material hugs his midsection, but that’s probably the only good thing going for it, judging by the gymnastics Oikawa’s features are going through.

“Iwa-chan, you can’t seriously be wearing that out.”

“Really?” Hajime makes a show of looking down at himself. “Why not?”

“It looks terrible, that’s why!”

“It’s comfortable though.” It’s not - it’s a little scratchy, and the slightly smaller size makes it ride up his hips. Not that Hajime would admit that out loud; the sacrifices one has to make for science cannot be helped.

“My boyfriend’s a walking fashion disaster,” Oikawa mutters through fingers pressed against his face. “Seriously, how is your fashion sense so shitty?”

“No shittier than your personality. Besides, I _like_ this shirt, Tooru.” Hajime raises a single eyebrow challengingly, crossing his arms. “Is there a problem with it?”

He braces himself for the resounding ‘yes’, followed by all the flaws of the t-shirt listed out in a rising tone of voice. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if Oikawa physically shoves him back into the bedroom, demanding he change into something less of an eyesore.

Instead, Oikawa exhales loudly, pressing his hands to his temples. “Everything’s the problem with it, Iwa-chan.” He stalks into the bedroom with no further protest though, much to Hajime’s bemusement.

It takes a little longer this time, but Oikawa finally comes out decked in a tasteful red cardigan two shades darker than Hajime’s t-shirt. Underneath it is a familiar shirt, and Iwaizumi squints at it. “Hey, is that my…?”

“C’mon, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa pushes at Hajime’s shoulders. There’s a green rubber wristband around his right wrist; it’s also Hajime’s, with “GOJIRA” printed on it in block letters. “If we don’t hurry, the milk bread will sell out!”

Hajime only allows himself to be herded out so effectively because he’s too busy gaping at how cleverly Oikawa’s matched himself to him this time. It’s not a direct match-for-match, but the details are there, from the nod to Godzilla to the subtle color scheme.

If Oikawa had announced out loud that he was going to aggressively match his clothing choices with Hajime, it wouldn’t have been as effective as this. He’s not just serious about this venture, Hajime realizes; somehow, his boyfriend was also committed to it.

Perhaps then, it is time he do something about it.

\---

He’s swamped with midterm examinations for a while after the bakery outing; when that crunch period ends, Oikawa’s gone for Chuo University’s volleyball camp for a week. The free time allows Hajime to plan a little, and the next time they’re slumped on the couch together, he leans over, poking at Oikawa’s ankle with his toe.

“Hey. Dinner tonight?”

Oikawa groans, rolling over slightly as bleary hazel eyes peer at Hajime over the overlarge pillow the setter is hugging to his chest. “Out or in?”

“Out. Manmaru udon?”

“Mmm. That’s a really cheap date, Iwa-chan.”

“Still a date.” Hajime pokes Oikawa’s ankle again. “So, how about it?”

“Okay, okay, if you’re paying.”

“You cheapskate.” Hajime shuffles around until he’s pressed against Oikawa’s side. “Take the shower first -  you take up the most time in it anyway.”

Oikawa’s hum is one of pleasure this time as Hajime presses a lazy kiss just under his ear. “Some of us care about looking presentable, Iwa-chan. Maybe you should go first though?”

“Nah.” Hajime nuzzles the nape of Oikawa’s neck a little longer, before giving him a shove. “Go get pretty before we decide to never leave this couch.”  

“You sure?” Oikawa’s definitely dithering; now that Hajime knows what’s going on, it makes a sort of sense. Oikawa needs Hajime to be dressed first if he wants to pull off his covert couple-clothing scheme.

Well, Hajime’s got different plans for that tonight. This time, he lingers on the couch long enough for Oikawa to finish his shower, then barges into the bedroom when he knows Oikawa’s half-dressed.

“Sorry, left my phone charging in here.” He grabs said phone, sneaking a quick glance at where Oikawa’s blow-drying his hair, then at his clothes laid out on the bed. His boyfriend doesn’t pay too much attention, distracted as he is, and Iwaizumi takes note of the long-sleeved shirt and pants set before leaving.

He runs through his own drawers mentally while standing under the shower, cataloguing his clothing as he lathers soap down his legs. Godzilla t-shirt aside, Hajime’s apparel preferences are more subdued, and thus limited in choices. Worse still, the two of them have been too tired of late to clear the mountain of laundry building up in their basket, which reduces the options available to Hajime.

Clothes-matching is hard, he concludes as he dries himself off. While Oikawa may own more clothes than him, in a larger variety of styles, actually making a visible effort to wear complementary clothing takes a lot more thought than he had given it credit for.

Sure enough, none of Hajime’s clean clothing are even close to being similar to the maroon shirt Oikawa’s planning to wear. At a bit of a loss, Hajime eyes his open drawers critically before his eyes are drawn to Oikawa’s side of the closet. His shoulders are broader than his boyfriend’s, but maybe…

Oikawa doesn’t look up immediately when Hajime pads out to stand in front of him, tapping out a message furiously on his phone. It isn’t until Hajime coughs, slightly self-conscious, that he lifts his head.

“Iwa-chan, you won’t believe what Ushiwaka’s saying about...” the words trail off as Oikawa’s eyes widen, mouth agape as he takes in what Hajime’s wearing. The burgundy sweater is a little tight across Hajime’s chest and just the slightest bit too long, but it’s undeniably Oikawa’s, from the neat knit design to the small cartoon dog decal on the front pocket announcing the brand. Most importantly, it matches the Oikawa's own shirt beautifully, and Hajime stuffs his hands in his jeans pockets, drinking in the sight of his boyfriend’s face.

“What’s Ushijima saying now?”

“Is that…” Long fingers reach out to touch the hem of the sweater reverently. “That’s my sweater, isn’t it? Iwa-chan…”

Hajime shrugs. “Figured that you’ve been clothes-twinning with me for so long, I might as well return the favor.”

He keeps watching as Oikawa continues to finger the sweater, and drops onto the couch easily at the soft tug. He's unprepared for the lapful of Oikawa he gets though, or the insistent kiss that his boyfriend presses to his lips, sweet and delighted. But Hajime’s always been pretty good at adapting, and strong arms come up around Oikawa’s waist, pulling him even closer.

“I can’t believe you noticed though,” Oikawa says later, head pillowed on Hajime’s shoulder. “You don’t pay much attention to clothing so I thought… well.”

“Why the sudden clothes-matching anyway?” Hajime idly traces circles with his thumb over Oikawa’s hand, slung over his midsection. “And why didn’t you just tell me?”

“You’d laugh.”

“I’m not laughing now.”

“No, but you would have thought it silly, or ridiculous, or time-consuming.” Oikawa shifts, moving his head so he could meet Hajime’s eyes with his own. “Besides, I’ve got a lot of clothing - it’s easier for me to match your terrible fashion sense-”

“Hey, watch it.”

“It’s true though! I swear I will burn that Godzilla shirt and replace it with a nicer one. But I figured…we don’t really get to do couple-y things in public, you know? We don’t hold hands, for one. And I can’t just lean in and kiss you whenever.”

Hajime frowns. “You know I don’t mind doing those kinds of things, but your sports scholarship-”

“I know, I know.” Oikawa picks at a loose thread strand. “I know this is for my sake more than yours, especially since I want to make the National team and all. But I can’t help but wish sometimes that we could just…be boyfriends when we’re out together. I saw a couple of girls look you over last month, and I wanted so badly to tell them to back off. So I thought, if we matched outfits, at least I can put a stamp of a sort on you, a small sign that you’re mine.”

Oikawa’s voice gets smaller and smaller the longer he talks; under the soft shirt, Hajime can see broad shoulders stiffen slightly. “You idiot, you sure they weren’t looking at you?”

“They were definitely checking you out, Iwa-chan. When you don’t scowl, you don’t look all that barbaric, you know.”

“Wow, thanks,” Hajime says dryly, pinching Oikawa’s side lightly until the setter squeaks. “But seriously, who cares if they were staring at me? You know I only look at you anyway, Tooru.”

When Oikawa doesn’t say anything, Hajime looks at him, only to find the brunet flushing, the red of his cheeks clashing horribly with his shirt. “S-say that again, Hajime?”

“Idiot-Tooru, I have eyes only for you.” Hajime presses a firm kiss against Oikawa’s forehead. “So what if we don’t hold hands in public? Or we don’t walk around as if we are attached at the waist? The important thing is that you know I love you, no matter what. Hell, I’ll hold your hand around this apartment if you want.”

“That wouldn’t be practical.” Oikawa’s voice is lighter now, back to its usual airy pitch as fingers calloused from long hours of volleyball practices slowly find Hajime’s, interlacing themselves with his. “Imagine us trying to get through the kitchen door.”

“Exactly. But I’ll do it if that's what you want. So don’t sneak around; if you want to pair your outfit with mine, just let me know.” Hajime smirks. “Maybe I won’t wear the Godzilla t-shirt on purpose next time.”

“You wore it deliberately?!” Oikawa smacks Hajime’s shoulder in horrified indignation. “You asshole, I almost upended my entire wardrobe just to find something that matched that monstrosity. I ended up having to use your shirt.”

“And my wristband too. I noticed.”  Hajime drops a final kiss on top of Oikawa’s hair before he stretches. “So, dinner? Might as well show off this nice sweater of yours now that I’ve wrestled myself into it.”

‘Will you hold my hand until the elevator?”

“I’ll hold your hand as long as you want me to, Tooru. And wear all your clothes if I have to. That good enough?”

“Yeah,” Oikawa whispers, fond and happy. “That’s more than enough.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! (°◡°♡).:｡ Kudos and comments are very much appreciated, as are marshmallows.
> 
> Edit: *FLAILS* Guys, guys, [BlitheBoa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlitheBoa/pseuds/BlitheBoa) did a set of absolutely brilliant [art with Oikawa and Iwaizumi wearing the clothes mentioned in this fic](http://boaillustration.tumblr.com/post/166182540170/when-your-boyfriend-starts-matching-your-outfits)! It's amazing, I'm grinning fit to burst, and you should totally check it out!


End file.
